


Lost Stars

by afterfourteenyears



Category: Gintama
Genre: F/M, HijiTsu, ZenTsu
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 05:34:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16826170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afterfourteenyears/pseuds/afterfourteenyears
Summary: [HijiTsu, ZenTsu] Life starts to lose its direction for Toshiro Hijikata, Zenzou Hattori, and Tsukuyo. At least... until fate starts picking on them.





	Lost Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gintama belongs to Sorachi Hideaki, the gorilla in the yellow shirt. Please read and review. This fan fiction is unbetaed. Vote in the poll. The usual. Hee! New story. I’ve long planned to write a piece about Tsukuyo in order to flesh out her character (more than in the manga - it leaves me unsatisfied). But I swore not to pair her up with Gintoki in the piece because the GinTsu pairing has probably been written in all possible variations and has been overdone. I don’t want her story to be another one of those. An acquaintance of mine suggested Zenzou, who never crossed my mind to be paired with her. Then a friend suggested Hijikata and I thought it unlikely that they would go well together. Well, I’ve put myself up to the challenge and will write about her with both. This will be quite an experiment. I’d love to hear everyone’s thoughts and inputs so that I can make a great story here. *EXCITING*

“The experience of being loved has long been forgotten. For women enveloped in loneliness, the tsubaki represents them. It may be the flower that the samurai disregard for its undignified wilting in the winter. But Hotaru, even if it falls, when the winter comes to pass, the flower blossoms once more. A flower that has never wilted is inadequate, because every single time a petal falls, that’s when it can still bloom further. And that is why… That is why love is enough.” 

\-------

The light is set with an appropriate brightness but she shuns it because it illuminates her face - the scars. She is pretty, even with them, on the outside - she is aware. On the inside, she doesn't even know what is left. 

“Why are you here, Tsukuyo?”

“I am searching… Still trying to find my purpose.” She thinks about her kiseru and how much she needs it right now.

“In your twenty-three years, you have never realized your purpose?”

With a shake of her head, she explains, “There were numerous reasons… They never lasted.”

“Can you share those reasons?” 

“Actually,” she stands as the visual of herself slicing at her master with a kunai invades her thoughts, “I can’t. This is a mistake, I’m leaving.” 

“I see.” A pause. “Well, goodbye miss. Come back when you feel like it.”

“No thank you, doctor.” She slides the door shut. “Farewell.”

\-------

\-------

“I don’t give a shit if one of you dies because I’ll just keep on killing more to compensate. I won’t offer you touching words… I won’t shed a tear… But keep in mind that I’ll keep fighting until I die too and I’ll be giving my all just like you will.”

\-------

“Toshi? You holding up?” Kondo Isao is examining him with a frown and his eyebrows close together.

He feels his cheek twitch but doesn’t say anything. A pack of cigarettes would be his best companion right now. 

“Hey? Toshi?”

“Yes. Kondo-san.”

“Okay! I was just worried.” Kondo reluctantly leaves with a wave. 

Hijikata sighs, wishing that tomorrow comes sooner. It is always on this day that people are bothering him. They think he is some weak loser who is unable to move on from the past. What a misconception. Letting go is always a piece of spicy cake. 

He bites a red cracker. It burns his tongue and his eyes.

Spices are a pain on the side. Every-single-time. Hijikata sucks on a tube of mayonnaise.

“All I wanted to do was to make the woman I loved happy… even if I mistakenly thought that love was an illusion.” He shuts out that memory but his brother’s face is what he sees in its place. The tears are relentless.

\-------

\-------

"Guys that offer their lives for their masters or their kings are just stupid, but, Shige Shige... men that die for their friends, those are the grandest of all idiots, right?"

\-------

“Zenzou… Boss… There’s blood on your pants.”

Ah fuck. He has given up on feeling embarrassed about that. “Hold on, I need to wipe and change.”

“Take your time.” Sarutobi flips open her phone and sighs as she stares at the background - an image of the Yorozuya leader picking his nostril.

“Stop that.” He is wary of her Gintoki Sakata monologues. 

“Look, Zenzou. I’m trying to keep myself happy here. You should too,” she narrows her eyes at him, “because Shige Shige would want you to stop blaming yourself.”

“Tsk.” Zenzou shuts the bathroom door. He is filled with misery while doing his thing in there. 

What does Sarutobi know? He is not the sentimental type but he understands how to value people… like her and Shige Shige. Maybe his father too. Their deaths shall not be buried with distractions of happy thoughts or amorousness.

His father is surely disappointed with him, even in the afterlife.

“Ah, who cares?” He grabs the latest JUMP and sits on the bowl. “Maybe there’s a good manga chapter in here.”

\-------

\-------

\-------

Tsukuyo strolls along the streets of Kabukicho. Her reasons for coming to this place are quite confusing. “No, I am not here to visit Gintoki at all!” The townsfolk glance at her warily because she is yelling at herself. She gulps. “Excuse me for the rudeness.” 

A little boy glaringly points at her face and his mother berates him by slapping his hand down. 

The scars again. Tsukuyo covers them with her hair. She doesn’t care but her damn traitor heart is beating too fast again. “I need a smoke,” she mutters and walks to the smoking area she spotted. She takes a long, long drag from her kiseru. 

A swift motion to her right catches her eye. There is a man slumping against the wall while also smoking a dismal cigarette. His eyes are red and puffy. Tsukuyo knows him, the man from the Shinsengumi, Toshiro Hijikata. 

“What are you staring at?” He looks absolutely drained. 

“Err… You’re Toshiro Hijikata.” 

“Yeah. So? What do you want, lady?”

So he does not recognize her. Or he is under the influence of a substance. He is not in his uniform, instead donning a plain blue yukata, and thus might not be on patrol. 

“It’s me, Tsukuyo. From Yoshiwara. If you don’t remember…”

“Ah!” The cigarette drops from his mouth onto the ground. “I didn’t realize. You, ah, look different.”

She smooths the strands that lay over her scars. “It’s the hair.” 

“Hmm… it suits you,” he says without looking at her. Another cigarette is lit in his mouth. He blows out the smoke and stares at the distance. Tsukuyo has never seen such an intense person. She also finds herself unable to respond to his compliment. “What brings you here, Yoshiwara lady?”

“This is a smoking area,” she speaks with the kiseru between her lips. 

“Ha. Obviously.”

Tsukuyo wonders if she must keep talking. She discreetly hands him a tissue. 

“Huh? What’s this?” 

She coughs and whispers. “Your eyelids are swollen.”

“Yeah? So? I just woke up.” 

“That’s okay. We all get sad sometimes. My eyes look a thousand times worse than you when I cry.” 

“Wait a second. Are you trying to be nice and comfort me? I doubt you even cry.” He scans her from head to toe. “A tough-looking one like you has no time to cry nor do you seem to be nice.”

“You can still be cool even if you cry.”

“I SAID I WASN’T CRYING!” 

She hands him another tissue and keeps her voice low, “Wipe that snot off your nose before anyone notices.”

Hijikata glares at her but snatches it and blows his nose. “Thanks.” 

A commotion from a few houses down draws their attention. 

The window breaks and a screaming figure in purple and white is flung off from the inside. “STAY OUTTA MY HOUSE!” Gintoki’s head pops out of the window as he yells. 

Ayame Sarutobi is motionless, face flat on the ground. 

“Idiots,” Hijikata grumbles. He nods at her and then walks in the opposite direction. 

Tsukuyo watches his back, still curious as to why the man from the Shinsengumi would be crying in public. 

\-------

“Sarutobi bothering you this early?” Tsukuyo leans on the cracked and peeling wall of Gintoki’s home. She has waved off the couch, feeling more comfortable like this. She doesn’t plan to stay long. 

“Eh,” Gintoki spins his finger out of his nostril. “That woman is such a headache.” 

“Doesn’t give you the right to beat her up like that.” 

“Hey, if you were in my place, you’d realize that beating her up isn’t even enough. Beating her up is actually nice because she likes it.” 

“You’re perspective is unfortunate.”

He takes a seat on the couch and slams his feet on the table. “Aren’t you girls close? Maybe you can do me a favor and knock some sense into her.”

“You’re the one who needs to be knocked out.” Tsukuyo mentally kicks herself for her supposed attraction to this… creature. “There are limits to immaturity.” 

“I’M the immature one?” He raises an eyebrow at her. “Why are you here? To pester me too? Should I also catapult you outside?”

She is sorely tempted to slam his face on the floor. “I was just… Wandering around. Yoshiwara’s been relatively harmonized lately and I thought I could be useful somewhere.”

“Well, certainly not here,” Gintoki declares. “We’re out of business lately. And my current agenda is to watch television.” 

Tsukuyo whips her heel to make his face meet the ground. “Useless bastard.” 

“Stop beating me up. I just want one peaceful story where I’m not the main character who has to deal with a lot of problems. Please just let me watch television! Ketsuno Anaaaaa!”

“Are we talking about assholes? I just had mine bleeding earlier today.” A tall, stocky man appears in the room. His light brown hair conceals his eyes. “What a mess.” 

“Is my home a public place? Is this a goddamn park? Why do idiots keep showing up out of nowhere?” Gintoki miserably gets up from the floor and lies back on the couch. He fingers his nostrils again. This is the man she spoke the words,  _ I want to die by your side _ , to. Tsukuyo thinks she needs to reexamine her emotions. 

“I want my JUMP special edition back.” Zenzou Hattori’s presence is threatening but Tsukuyo keeps her cool. Nothing she can’t handle but it was Gintoki’s trouble.

“What do you mean your JUMP? All the JUMPs here are mine.” 

“My JUMPs are distinguishable from all the rest. They have a special mark.”

“What mark? I don’t see any marks?”

“They possess the smell of the bathroom,” the ninja announces with a dark background surrounding him.

Tsukuyo flings three weapons at him and his stupidity. 

“Hey hot lady,” he addresses her, “don’t aim for the butt. It’s been through too much today.”

She fires another kunai right there for good measure. “I don’t appreciate being called hot.” 

“The truth hurts… But not as much as my behind right now.” He reluctantly gets up and hands her back her weapons. 

“I don’t want those back. They’ve been to unsightly places just now.”

He shrugs and keeps them in his pocket. “More for me, I guess.”

Tsukuyo can’t tell if he was looking at her but she has that sensation of being studied. “What are you staring at?”

“Nothing, Tsukuyo, Jiraia’s student.” He doesn’t move from his position. “I just had a flashback of you killing him mercilessly.” 

His words pierce her heart like a ragged stone. It is bleeding again. 

She readies her weapon. “You’d better choose your words carefully or I’ll shut your mouth for you.”

“Don’t turn my house into a murder scene! I don’t want those Shinsengumi bastards hanging out here.” Gintoki jumps to his feet and tries to take the kunai from her hand. “You two want to kill each other? Do it elsewhere! Just let me watch television!”

Tsukuyo twists away then successfully knocks him out with a German suplex. 

“Such violence for a hot lady.” 

“I said don’t call me that.” 

He laughs. “Don’t worry, I’m not interested in hot chicks.”

“You’re really asking for it.”

He tilts his head and probably stares at her. Tsukuyo is annoyed that she cannot see his eyes or his intentions. “Actually,” he rubs his chin, “you seem like you can handle yourself in a fight. I could use your help with something.” 

“Me?” She asks uncertainly. 

“Sarutobi is indisposed, so is the Yorozuya here. I guess you’ll do.” He crosses his arms and waits for her answer. 

She  _ is _ in need of something to do. This might be worth her time despite the unsatisfactory company. Considering the circumstances, there isn’t much of a choice. She’ll take her chances. Worse comes to worst, she can handle him.

“So,” she mirrors him and crosses her arms, “start talking.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will not be disregarding my other fics. It’s a sin to start another story with so many WiPs and all I can say is sorry. WAHAHA.


End file.
